


Love Asylum

by dancinghopper



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Jughead Jones, F/F, archie/jug will probably happen at some point, idk i hate riverdale but i hate exam study more, if this makes it past the three chapter mark, this is basically a rewrite of s1 except everyone is gay, title is from hayley kiyoko's feelings because it's a big gay mood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinghopper/pseuds/dancinghopper
Summary: Riverdale except Cheryl Blossom is a big ol' lesbian in love with Veronica Lodge. A season re-write with hopefully a slightly better murder-mystery and written by someone with actual first hand knowledge of how teenagers behave (hint: it's not by completely ignoring the police).





	1. like an island (just me and you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, this is not my best work. I wrote it last night, edited it this morning and now I'm just posting it because I can. It's basically just episode one in text form but rest assured that next chapter is when things will start getting Extra Gay™. 
> 
> Other fun notes are:  
> \- feel free to imagine that Veronica does not dress like a thirty year old woman. I'm picturing Hayley Kiyoko/athleisure wear vibes because she lived in fashion-capital of America New York, but imagine her in whatever your gay heart desires.  
> \- this starts off Beronica-ish but it is definitely Cheronica, don't panic.  
> \- if I skip over something it's because I don't want to bore y'all with it when you've already seen it in the show. Just assume it happened unless I present an alternate scene.

The most Veronica could say for Riverdale was that it was, at least, classier than she anticipated. _The Pembrooke_ wasn’t as extravagant as the few hotels she’d visited in New York, but it did have a decidedly luxurious feel to it, and luxury was what Veronica was all about. 

“Now, brace yourself,” said her mother, pulling off her gloves as she exited the cab, “the apartment’s small, a pied-a-terre, but –”

“Quality always,” finished Veronica, looking up at the building with trepidation. The statement didn’t just apply to the change of house – it was a fresh start, and Veronica hoped that a quality town could help transform her into a quality person. In her head, she called this her ‘Be a Better Veronica Lodge’ program (as embarrassing as that was), and it’s first step was to cement herself in this little back-end town.

After her father’s arrest, she’d lost her friends, income and social standing all in one hit. As much as she wanted to blame those around her for it, a summer spent locked away from the press had taught her that it was as much her fault as any of them. She didn’t have any real friends, but truthfully, she hadn’t done anything to deserve any.

After giving their bags to Smithers, her mom rang the little tuck-shop she’d mentioned and ordered two burgers.

“I used to visit Pop Tate’s all the time when I was in high school,” she said, staring wistfully at the phone. “It was _the_ place to be.”

Veronica quirked her head, eager to establish herself in the social scene. “I can go pick up the food if you want. Give you a chance to settle in and me to explore the town?”

Hermione nodded. “Okay, but get a taxi cab there and back, alright? I don’t want you getting lost on our first day here.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “ _Mom_. I’ll be fine, although – should I change?” She was still dressed in the clothes she’d put on that morning, which while appropriate for New York, might not have been so welcome in a small town like Riverdale. She bit her lip, “I _really_ don’t know what the dress code is like here.”

“Well back in my day it was all fish-nets and big hair, so…”

Veronica wrinkled her nose, picturing herself with a mullet. “Ugh, no. I’m _so_ glad the 80s are behind us.”

Her mom wagged a finger at her as she journeyed into the kitchen. “Don’t be so sure about that, Mija. I’ve seen your acid-wash jacket.”

Veronica shook her head, laughing. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Be careful!” called Hermione, and Veronica sent her a little wave in return.

* * *

Pop’s Chock-lit shop was a funky, retro style diner that Veronica instantly identified as her hang-out spot for the rest of eternity. It had ten or so booths with vinyl clad seats back to back, smelled amazing _and_ had eye-candy. 

Noticing the red-head staring at her – and desperately hoping the blonde wasn’t his girlfriend – she grinned and walked over.

“Hi.”

“Hey!” said the boy, trying and failing to hide his open admiration of her.

She stepped closer to the table, looking between the two of them. “How are the onion rings here?”

“So good,” he replied, and she turned back to Pop Tate to order some on the side. He gave her a thumbs up and headed back to the kitchen. She glanced between the two teenagers.

“Thanks. My mom and I just moved here,” she said, shrugging by way of an explanation.

“Oh? Where from?”

“New York,” said Veronica, looking at the girl, who had so far been quiet. “Do you go to Riverdale High?”

“We’re sophomores.”

“Both of us. _Together_.”

Both said it at the same time, and Veronica looked curiously between them. The blonde, who had stressed the ‘together’ part, was glaring wide-eyed at her counterpart. Veronica was good at reading body language, and there was definitely _something_ going on between the two.

“I’m Veronica Lodge,” she said, looking at the girl and smiling.

“Betty Cooper,” answered the blonde, “I’m actually supposed to give you your tour tomorrow.”

“Oh!” said Veronica, but was interrupted by the red-head introducing himself.

“I’m Archie. Andrews.”

Biting back a smirk, Veronica shook his offered hand. She’d expected some of the “new-girl mystery” to have a stronger effect on boys here than it might have in the city, but not to this degree. Especially not while his maybe-girlfriend was sitting right across from him.

Sensing tension, she made to excuse herself. “I’d better go, my mom’s waiting. But I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

She directed this to Betty, who smiled.

“Yep! Sure thing.”

“Cool. See you then, Betty Cooper.”

* * *

 “Okay, so I usually like to start my tours with a little history…” 

Betty was far too chipper for this time in the morning, in Veronica’s opinion, but she did her best to keep up, coffee in hand. She listened to Betty prattle on about architecture and the war for a little while before interrupting to ask the real questions.

“Ok, so what’s the social scene like here? Any nightclubs?”

“A strip club called the Ho Zone and a tragic gay bar called Innuendo,” said a voice as a teenage guy made himself present at her side. “Friday nights, football games and then tailgate parties at the Walmart parking lot.”

He was walking backwards now, checking thing off on his fingers. “Saturday night is movie night, regardless of what’s playing at the Bijou and you better get there early because we don’t have reserved seating in Riverdale.”

“And Sunday nights?” he added, putting his arm around Betty as they came to a stop, “Well, thank _god_ for HBO.”

Impressed, Veronica clasped her hands together excitedly. _Finally,_ someone she related to.

“Veronica Lodge, Kevin Keller,” introduced Betty. “Veronica’s new here and Kevin is –”

“Gay,” finished Veronica happily, extending her hand towards him. “Thank god. I was afraid I was going to have a total _Little Britain_ moment when I moved here.”

Kevin grinned at her and shook her hand while Betty looked between them, obviously confused. “You’d be surprised,” he quipped. “And is it true what they say about your dad?”

Betty elbowed him in the ribs as sharply as Veronica’s mood deflated. “Does everyone here know?”

Betty nodded awkwardly. A sinking feeling filled Ronnie’s chest, even though she’d expected that. Hiram Lodge’s fraud and embezzlement charges had been making headlines all summer, after all. 

“Wonderful. Ten minutes in and I’m already the Blue Jasmine of Riverdale High.”

Kevin grimaced and shrugged, “Well, you do have the socialite look down pat.”

Self-consciously, Veronica looked down at her dress. Dammit, she knew she should have gone with something more casual, but she’d gotten so used to dressing formally for all the hearings she had to go to that it must have seeped into her everyday wardrobe.

Seeing her distressed look, Betty quickly intervened. “No, no, it’s good! You look good! You’ll fit right in at the back-to-school semi-formal dance this weekend!”

Veronica lit up. “A dance?”

“Don’t get too eager,” interjected Kevin, “I heard it might be getting cancelled.”

“Why?” she asked, already thinking about Betty in a dress (sue her, Betty was pretty).

“Because of what happened to Jason,” said Kevin in a hushed voice, already establishing himself as a gossip. “They’re gonna tell us at the assembly.”

Veronica frowned. “Who’s Jason?”

* * *

Jason, it turned out, was the twin to Cheryl Blossom, and though she didn’t know Jason she could immediately identify Cheryl as an expert dramatist. Her speech about her brother’s death was rousing, filled with impassioned words and imploring stares, and she commanded a hush as soon as she stepped on stage.

On her right, Betty’s eyes were glazed, and Veronica wondered if she’d known Jason. She wanted to comfort her, but thought that would probably be weird considering they’d known each other for only a handful of hours, so instead watched Cheryl alongside the rest of the assembly.

Something stirred inside her chest, and she didn’t know if it was attraction, pity or disgust, or possibly a mix of all three. She recognised the crocodile tears and the power, because at one point Veronica had held them. Had _been_ her. In New York, people parted in the hallways for her, averted their eyes and blushed if she stared back. She’d held the social hierarchy in her hand and she could have crushed it at any point if it would’ve served her amusement.

She wondered if Cheryl felt the same as she did – if she too felt suffocated by the pressure of her façade, isolated in a sea of people, or if she hadn’t yet realised that her life was an illusion. Either way, the crowd applauded when she gave her permission for the school dance to go ahead, and Veronica’s attention was quickly captured by other things.

* * *

The first lunch hour was always a hassle at a new school, but luckily Veronica spotted Betty, Kevin and Archie’s table soon after exiting the cafeteria. She caught a few people’s gaze, but ultimately felt rather like pre-makeover Ty: unnoticed and unremarkable.

That was probably ridiculously narcissistic, and she said so to Kevin, who laughed. 

“Any other year you’d be trending item number one,” he agreed, “But this year it’s all about Cheryl trying to win the Best Supporting Psycho Oscar for her role as Riverdale High’s bereaved Red Widow.”

Veronica scoffed around one of her French-fries. “Does Cheryl pull this shit a lot, then?”

“Almost all the time, actually –”

“Hey I should go,” said Archie suddenly, getting up, “Meeting with Grundy. Then football tryouts.”

“You play football too?” Veronica called after him, although she shouldn’t have been surprised given his physique. “What don’t you do?”

Betty looked down at her plate, and Veronica caught Kevin giving her the side-eye.

“Okay, _what_ am I missing, here?" 

Kevin looked between both of them once before spilling the beans in a rush: “Betty is totally in love with Archie and has been since forever but she has yet to tell him that _or_ do something as painfully simple as ask him to the dance this weekend.”

“Kev!” yelped Betty, reaching across to slap his arm.

Veronica laughed. “It’s okay, Betty, I won’t tell. And don’t worry, I won’t ‘steal him away from you,’ or anything, if that’s what you look so worried about. Trust me when I say that Archie is _not_ the redhead I’m interested in.”

She looked back over to Cheryl’s table. “I wanna know about _her_.” 

“ _Cheryl?!”_

“You’re gay?!” 

Coming out was always nerve-wracking, but in her opinion it could have been a lot worse. Betty’s confused exclamation was far preferable to dead silence and the quiet statement not to mention it ever again. Hopefully Kevin’s apparent acceptance here meant that the town wasn’t as bigoted as most, even though Veronica knew that on the spectrum, gay-men were usually the most welcome. 

“Bi,” said Ronnie, addressing Betty first and playing it cool. “But no, I’m not interested in her in a gay way,” _Probably_ , she added mentally, “She just reminds me of myself before I moved here.”

Betty scoffed. “I doubt it.” 

“Betty’s right,” said Kevin, “Cheryl is a class-A Bitch. No matter how much of queen-bee you were in New York, you couldn’t have been worse than Cheryl.”

Veronica had a sudden vision of Paige Smith, illuminated by a phone light and doubled over in the gutter, and felt sick.

She poked glumly at her apple. “Yeah, well. You’d be surprised.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, punctured by the arrival of none other than the girl in question. 

“Veronica Lodge.”

Veronica’s eyes snapped up, and her stupid heart leapt into her throat. Cheryl Blossom might not have impressed her with her conduct, but goddammit, she was _really_ pretty. Especially when she stood against the sun, so her hair got a halo of yellow light around it, illuminating her like some kind of angel.

“I’d heard whisperings,” said Cheryl, standing with her hands on her hips like she did this every day. She’d changed from the all-black outfit she’d worn at the assembly into a black shirt and red skirt, and she sat down daintily across from Veronica.

“Soooo,” she said, looking around the table, “What are you three hens gossiping about? Archie’s Efron-esque emergence from the chrysalis of puberty?”

Betty looked at Veronica, panicked, and shook her head.

“Extracurriculars,” lied Veronica, “Weatherbee wants me to sign up for a few.”

 “Cheerleading! You must!” Cheryl beamed, and flipped her hair. “I’m senior captain of the River Vixens.”

“Is cheerleading still a thing?” asked Kevin sarcastically.

“Is being the gay best friend still a thing?” shot back Cheryl, and Veronica had to bite down on her lip to keep from smirking. Cheryl turned back to her, leaning in slightly. 

“Some people say it’s retro, I say it’s eternal and iconic.”

“At Spence, I sat at the top of the elites’ pyramid,” replied Veronica, very aware that she was bragging but unsure whether it was because she wanted to impress or intimidate Cheryl. “I’m in.”

She glanced over at Betty, “Betty, you’re trying out too!”

Cheryl gave them all a simpering smile. “Of course. Anyone’s welcome to try out, but Betty’s already got _so much_ on her plate right now…”

She looked down meaningfully at Betty’s tray and Veronica felt anger flare up inside of her, “…and being a Vixen is kind of a full-time thing. But open to all.”

Cheryl stood up, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Follow me on Twitter and I’ll do the same.”

Bemused, Veronica nodded, waiting until after the redhead had left to talk to Betty. “Hate on cheerleading all you want, but if hipster Prince Harry –” 

“Oh, no, I would love to be a cheerleader,” said Betty, cutting off Veronica’s protests, “It would look great on my college applications… but last year when I tried out Cheryl said I was too fat.”

She shrugged with a little smile, and under the table Veronica clenched her hand into a fist. She hated above anything girls who used each other’s’ weight as an insult.

“’Too season five Betty Draper,’” said Kevin, “It was a great line. But not at all true.”

Veronica reached across the table to grab Betty’s hand. “Hey. You’re a total smoke show now, okay? Don’t listen to anything Cheryl says about it. And if you wanna be a River Vixen, I’ll help you prep. I have moves.”

She smiled, and Betty smiled back.

She shrugged helplessly. “Okay, fine. Show me your moves!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie's references this chapter include:  
> \- Little Britain (one of the running jokes is that Matt Lucas plays "the only gay in the village")  
> \- Clueless (pre-makeover Ty)
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to leave me suggestions for what you want to see please do!! I'm writing this for all of us because there is a severe lack of Cheryl/Veronica content... have a nice day!!! <3


	2. (at least i've got you) in my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, when I started writing this I said to myself: "Now, I'm not going to jump right in and have them using nicknames in the second chapter because that's just not realistic," but here we are anyway. I got sick of writing "Veronica" every time, so I had to spice it up a bit. 
> 
> Also, writing two women (or two men) is hard. Hopefully all the pronouns and who they refer to is understandable.

Veronica spent the rest of the week teaching Betty some basic routines after school. It gave them a chance to talk and get to know each other, and Veronica quickly found herself becoming friends with the blonde academic. She told her about Archie and how they’d been best friends since kindergarten, even a cute little story where Archie had proposed to her after she tutored him in maths.

“I don’t know,” said Betty as she sorted through a clothing rack, “I keep coming back to that memory recently. And I know it’s crazy to think that he might still feel the same way – that he even _understood_ what he was saying back then, but I just… I have to know.”

They were searching one of Riverdale’s small boutique stores for a dress for Veronica to wear to the 'Back to School' dance, but so far they hadn’t had any luck. She gave Betty a sympathetic smile, knowing exactly how she must be feeling.

“I completely understand,” she said. “Back in freshman year I had this _ridiculous_ crush. Like, truly ridiculous. I’d barely spoken three words to them and yet for _months_ they were all I could think about.”

She laughed, reminiscing. Betty looked at her curiously; “What happened?”

Veronica shrugged. “I told them, eventually. They didn’t feel the same but I was so _relieved_ to get it off my chest, and just like that the feelings went away.”

Betty heaved a sigh. “Wow. I can’t… see myself _ever_ being over Archie. But, some relief would be welcome.”

She kept sorting through the rack, suddenly grinning and pulling a dress out. “Ooh, Ronnie, try this on!”

Veronica looked over. The dress was jade with a deep v-neck and looked to end about knee-length. It wasn’t her usual style but she _had_  said that Riverdale was going to mark a change in her life. She bit her lip.

“Okay," she conceded, "I’ll give it a shot.”

* * *

Friday afternoon was the cheerleading tryouts, and Betty had spent all day hopping around Veronica.

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a cheerleader!” she giggled as she changed into her gym clothes, ponytail bouncing.

Veronica laughed at her enthusiasm, although she felt similar. “I know! You and Archie are going to be a total power couple!”

Their routine was perfect, and if she did say so herself, Veronica thought they were easily the best among the try-outs. Cheryl looked her up and down once when they were finished, and Veronica felt heat pool in her cheeks.

“Hmph,” muttered Cheryl, placing her pen down on her clipboard. “Ladies, where’s the heat? Where’s the sizzle?”

For a brief moment, Veronica had a fantasy of walking over, grabbing her by straps of her cheerleading uniform and kissing Cheryl senseless. She shifted her weight, mentally cursing herself and her overactive imagination while trying desperately to reign in the tingles that were rocketing up and down her spine.

“Uh, were you not watching?” she asked, opting to fight with words, “Have you not seen Betty? She’s obviously the hotness –” Betty blushed furiously “– and _I_ am the sizzle.”

Here, Veronica pulled her leg up so she was doing a standing split. It had been her signature move at Spence, but she’d wanted to save it as a surprise for Riverdale. Desperate times, though, and all that.

One of the girls beside Cheryl let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Cheryl looked unimpressed, but unless Veronica was mistaken, her cheeks definitely looked more coloured. She humphed again and crossed her arms. “Well, Betty, Veronica certainly seems to have what it takes. Let’s see if you do better with the interview portion: how’s your sister doing?”

Veronica looked sharply over at her friend, confused as to what game Cheryl was playing. Betty looked similarly befuddled. “Um, Polly’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Veronica, has Betty told you about her sister?”

“Uh, no.”

“Go ahead Betty, tell Veronica about your sister and my dear brother.”

It went back and forth for some time, with Cheryl seemingly trying to get Betty to yell at her. It was a bizarre power-play, and one that had Veronica feeling not only uncomfortable, but also worried. It only got worse when Cheryl announced that she was on the squad, but Betty was not.

“Wait, what?” Veronica looked between them. “Betty fails because you couldn’t bully her into being a bitch?”

Cheryl raised her eyebrows. “I need girls with _fire_ on my squad.”

She looked back at Betty, catching the crestfallen look before she hid it by looking at the ground. She felt some of her old spirit return, and even though she’d promised herself to be better at Riverdale, Cheryl _needed_ to be taken down a peg. “No. Unacceptable."

“Excuse me?”

Veronica let out a long, suffering sigh. “Cheryl… I get it. You would rather people fear than like you, so you traffic in fear and intimidation. You’re rich, so you’ve never been held accountable. But I’m living proof that that certainty, that entitlement that you wear on your head like a crown, _doesn’t_ last.”

She stepped forward. “Eventually, _something_ will go wrong. And trust me, I learnt the hard way that it’s better to have good friends behind you when that happens. And treating people like this –”

She gestured behind her to Betty. “– is _not_ how you make good, supportive, _true_ friends. So I am _trying_ to be better than who I was – who you _are_. And you should think about that when I say: Betty and I come as a matching set, you want one, you take us both.”

And then, because Veronica was so over-dramatic that she probably should have been a theatre kid: “You wanted fire? Well, my specialty’s ice.”

* * *

“That was _amazing_ ,” gushed Betty, grabbing Veronica by the shoulders afterwards. “You were amazing!”

Veronica laughed and hugged her. “I can’t believe we did it! And what are you talking about? You were so good!”

Betty scoffed, tugging on her sleeves. “Hardly.”

“You _were_ ,” emphasised Veronica. “I could never have kept my cool like that.”

Betty smiled, obviously pleased with her compliment. She walked home with Betty, stopping briefly to practically force her into inviting Archie to the dance. Together they made small talk until it was time to say goodbye, and Veronica headed back to the Pembrooke alone.

Once back home, she changed out of her dress and into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top and set about making herself comfortable. She boiled the kettle and decided to check her phone, laughing when she saw her latest notification:

 _@cherylbombshell started following you_. 

She swiped across and amused herself by scrolling through Cheryl’s twitter, only mildly concerned that Cheryl had found her Twitter without Veronica telling her her handle. Most of the tweets were meaningless to Veronica: there were party pics, several about Jason and a thread about skincare that she found a little obnoxious, but did take screenshots of.

Less than two minutes after Veronica followed back, her direct messages popped open.

_Good call, Lodge. First cheerleading practice is Monday after school. Tell Betty. Or don’t, whatever._

Veronica rolled her eyes and quickly thumbed a reply. She did feel sort of guilty for embarrassing Cheryl in front of her whole team, even though she’d been mean to Betty.

**_Thanks. Srry for being a bitch earlier._ **

Veronica watched for some time as the three little dots hovered near Cheryl’s icon, occasionally disappearing before popping back up again. She gave up and buttered herself some toast before returning to her room. When the reply did come, it was boring and not worth the wait.

 _Whatever._  

* * *

 

To say Veronica Lodge wasn’t what Cheryl expected would be an understatement.  

When Ginger first texted her a link about the Lodge family trial and told her the daughter would be moving to Riverdale, Cheryl had scrolled through the internet furiously for an hour. Veronica Lodge was pretty and praised with the same compliments Cheryl received: compliments for the sake of compliments. That meant that Veronica was the sort of person who demanded to be liked, and it wasn’t till she dug out an old bullying article that she realised it might be by the same methods Cheryl used.

She was threatened. If Veronica had been a nobody, or at the very least not rich, Cheryl wouldn’t have had anything to worry about. But, if Veronica Lodge decided she wanted Riverdale High and Cheryl no longer had Jason beside her? That was a very worrying thought indeed.

Which led her to her second line of thinking: that it would be fun – _so fun_ – to team up with her.

If she could get Veronica on her side, especially with Jay-Jay gone, Riverdale would have a new power couple on their hands, and Cheryl might _finally_ have someone else who was on-par with her.

(A smaller part of her wondered if this was a chance to expand her circle of trust. If Veronica too understood the difficulty of living up to a certain lifestyle, or if Veronica’s parents were too focused on their trial to share their life with her.)

Cheerleading tryouts had, for the most part, led to Cheryl believing that Veronica fell neatly in the “threat” category, although she couldn’t deny the little thrill she got from someone finally standing up to her. There was just no excitement when everybody just went along with whatever she said.

All in all, that was what led Cheryl to this: sitting in her bathtub, surrounded by candles and staring at her phone.

**_Thanks. Srry for being a bitch earlier._ **

Had anyone (besides Jason) ever told her ‘sorry’ and meant it? _Ever_? It sent a little flutter throughout her body. Veronica  _had_ been a bitch to her at tryouts, but there was no need for her to apologise? It's not like they were friends (her heart fluttered again at the thought that they could be. It was a good thing she wasn't seeing a therapist, they'd probably have a field day saying she was starved for human affection).  Inexplicably, Cheryl had a sudden flashback to Veronica’s leg stretched up above her head.

 _Don’t be._  She typed. _It_ _was kind of a turn-on._  

Cheryl stared at her unsent message for a long time. And then some more. And then, after five minutes, she quickly back-spaced it out, replaced it with ‘ _Whatever’_ , and slid lower into the water.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, closing her eyes to block out any more thoughts of Veronica. She did _not_ , under any circumstances, want to be flirting with a Lodge.

* * *

That resolve lasted Cheryl just over twenty four hours, but she rationalised it by telling herself that even she couldn't have foreseen the quite frankly  _stunning_ dress Veronica had chosen to wear to the dance.

After a very undramatic round of ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’, Cheryl had finally given up and gone to sit next to Veronica, very pointedly _not_ looking at her legs and justifying it to herself as intelligence-gathering.

“Hello.”

Veronica looked up in surprise. “Hi.”

“Where are, uh, Betty and Archie?” The whole reason she’d invited them all was so she could stir up some chaos, but then two out of three had decided not to show up.

“Betty went home. I think Archie’s still around,” said Veronica, looking about the party. “They had a bit of a falling out.”

Cheryl’s eyebrows twitched at the prospect of gossip fresh in the air. “Ooooh, what about?”

“Oh, Betty told him that…” Veronica blinked suddenly and straightened. “Uh, I mean… nothing?”

Cheryl laughed, “You’re a bad liar.”

Veronica crinkled her nose adorably, nodding her head in agreement. “Yeah, that wasn’t good. Normally I’m better.”

She shifted so she was facing Cheryl better, blinking up at her. Noticing Veronica’s cup tipping dangerously towards the side, she swooped in and grabbed it before handing it off to some random passing freshman.

“I think it’s pretty clear it’s the alcohol,” said Cheryl, smiling condescendingly.

Veronica frowned. “No, that can’t be right. I’ve only been drinking coke.”

Cheryl paused, quickly realising what had happened. She dipped her head, closing her eyes and biting back a smile as she tried to compose herself. “Oh, Veronica. Dear, _sweet_ Veronica.”

She held up a stray can that must have been the origin for Veronica’s drink. “It’s _rum_ and coke, sweetie.”

“Oh,” said Veronica, and laughed. “Yep, that would explain it.”

They talked for a little while longer, mostly about New York and Veronica’s life there. If Cheryl had been hoping for ammunition, she didn’t receive any. Veronica mostly told her about her school classes and a few of her escapades about town. Cheryl smiled as Veronica kept talking, watching the way her mouth moved. She couldn’t explain it, but she was just _drawn_ to her. She had one arm propped up on the back of the couch, and every so often when Veronica moved her fingers came dangerously close to grazing the brunette’s shoulder.

“And then the bartender threw us out,” chuckled Veronica, having had another two beers since Cheryl confiscated her coke. “So it’s two in the morning and I am just _standing_ there, holding my drunk-as-a-skunk girlfriend with one arm and three stolen purses in the other, and Marcus turns to me and says – he says –” She broke down into giggles. “‘I knew we should’ve ditched the racoon!’"

Cheryl burst into laughter. “Oh _my god_ ,” she cried. “What happened?” 

“Oh, we left the purses in a dumpster and hailed a cab home,” she shook her head, still giggling. “Never went back.” 

Cheryl sunk further down into the couch, cackling. “That’s amazing. Jason and I used to sneak into this bar in Greendale but we _never_ experienced anything quite like that.”

She laughed fondly, remembering the time Jason had challenged a regular to a dart throwing competition and ended up with one in his shoulder. Veronica looked at her sympathetically, and it took a moment for Cheryl to remember why.

“Do you miss him?”

Veronica placed one of her hands on Cheryl’s own, causing her to pause, open-mouthed. If it had been anyone else she probably would have said something scathing, something to make them regret having asked. But Veronica didn’t know her, and she (probably) didn’t have an ulterior motive beyond actually caring about Cheryl’s feelings, which made her hesitate. Had she ever actually answered that question truthfully?

It was tricker than it seemed. _Did_ she miss Jason? He hadn’t called, hadn’t written, since she bade him goodbye on the fourth of July, and while that had worried her at first, it quickly gave into hurt. Was it possible that _she_ was one of the things he was running from, not just her parents? Could he really have enlisted her help, trusted her secrecy and then left her to fend for herself? When he _knew_ the cruelty of their home? 

“Yes,” she said, honestly and with a sad little smile. “But not as much as I used to.”

She sighed and moved so she was actually holding Veronica’s hand. Stroking her thumb across the back of it absent-mindedly, she said, “I hope he’s happier, now.”

It was a double-entendre Veronica couldn’t possibly hope to understand, but Cheryl squeezed her hand once and dropped it before she’d have the chance.

“Well,” she said, standing. “This got decidedly morbid and thus is probably a good motivator for me to start kicking people out.” 

She pulled Veronica to her feet. “Do you have a ride home?”

Ronnie nodded. “Archie, if he’s still around. Otherwise I’ll get a cab.”

The drunker part of Cheryl thought about offering her a lift, but the sober part told her not to risk it unless she wanted Clifford and Penelope Blossom to have an _actual_ dead-child, as well as a pretend one.

“Okay,” said Cheryl, “I’ll see you at school, then. Don’t forget cheer practice on Monday.” 

“I’ll be there,” said Veronica, lingering awkwardly for a moment. Cheryl raised an eyebrow.

“Ronnie?”

She flushed furiously, possibly from the alcohol, and Cheryl hated every single deity she’d ever pissed off for noticing that the pink tone reached down to the neckline of her dress.

Veronica blinked several times at her. “Right. Yes. Going now.”

And then, leaving a very confused Cheryl Blossom behind her, Veronica was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Cheryl's already in love (and so is Veronica lbr) because I like mutual-pining. Realistic? Actually yes, I met a girl once and fell in love with her in like five minutes. Good times.
> 
> Also on the whole Betty-Archie drama that I couldn't be arsed to write: they had the same talk at the dance, there was no 7 minutes in heaven nonsense but Betty did leave early because she was upset, Archie still went to her house afterwards (I might do that next chapter to get the ball rolling on Archie/Jug, idk yet) and they had the same conversation there as they did in the show.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left a comment last time! Hope this chapter is just as enjoyable for y'all! <3


	3. fight like a girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This accidentally became kind of Archie/Jug heavy?? Sorry not sorry. It's also massively long (like, twice as long as the other chapters) and the timeline is kind of messed up because I started chopping things up and moving them around. See the end for a quick note about where these events fall during the week.

“It would have gone a long way with me.” 

A wave of guilt washed over Archie, worse than it usually was when he saw Jughead around the school halls, when he could brush it off and head out to the football field. He looked down at the table, pretending to be particularly interested in one of the scuffmarks there as he tried to figure out what to say.

Jughead had always been the intelligent one between them, so he could hardly tell him about Ms Grundy. It wasn’t a very good excuse, anyhow. How was ditching Jughead for a chick any better than ditching him for no good reason? All that said was that getting laid was more important to Archie than their friendship.

Of course, it wasn’t just some _chick_. It was Geraldine. But in a way, that just made it worse.

Archie opened his mouth, and then closed it again, unsure as to how to make the situation better. An apology was bubbling in his throat, alongside a half-formed explanation, but it wouldn’t surface, and Archie was left gaping like a goldfish.

“You’ll catch flies,” mumbled Jughead, not looking up from his laptop.

Weeks later, when he told this story to Veronica, Archie would still be unable to explain the sudden rush of affection he felt for Jughead.

(She would laugh at him.)

The other boy pushed his fries towards him. “Go on. You’ll need your strength if you’re gonna deal with an angry Betty.”

“She’s, uh. She’s upset. Not angry.”

Jughead looked up. “All the more reason to talk to her, man.”

He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but Archie had been speaking Jughead’s mysterious language of double-meanings and movie quotes for longer than he could remember. He knew this was his chance. And for a moment, he really thought he was going to take it.

If he’d been a chick, he might have reached and placed his hand over Jughead’s, as a kind of silent apology. He supposed he could still do that, if he wanted to (Betty liked to talk often about dismantling traditional gender roles), but the thought made his chest tight for reasons he couldn’t explain. His situation with Jughead felt a lot more complicated than Betty’s did, which didn’t really make sense, but hey, there were a lot of things that didn’t make sense in his life right now. Specifically things pertaining to Jughead. 

Betty first, he told himself as he left. Betty first.

* * *

Veronica hurried to the front office, cupcakes clutched tightly in her hands. She hadn’t been able to see Betty at all on Sunday, partly because she was hungover and partly because they’d only known each other a week and she didn’t think they were quite _at_ ‘turning up at your house because your child-hood best-friend just told you he didn’t love you’. So instead Veronica had spent her morning organising cupcakes and a little treat-yourself day in the hopes of cheering Betty up.

“Who the hell is V?” asked Kevin’s voice just as she made it to the door.

“Veronica,” she chirped, hurrying in. “I’m _so_ sorry, Betty, and I know you said you wanted to be alone on Saturday night but nobody ought to go through this kind of thing alone, so I got you cupcakes from _Magnolia’s_ and also booked us in for hers-and-hers mani-pedis on Wednesday!”

This all came out in a rush, but Betty smiled at her and took the cupcakes. “Thank you, Veronica.” 

She squeezed her friend’s arm. “But I’m fine, really.”

Ronnie raised an eyebrow sceptically, but decided not to comment. 

“Well, in that case… walk me to Bio?”

Betty smiled again and jokingly offered Veronica her arm, but Veronica took it anyway.

“C’mon, Kevin!” She called over her shoulder, picturing him rolling his eyes at their antics. “Let’s go dissect some frogs!”

“No thank you!”

* * *

Underneath the table, Cheryl twisted her hands around a pencil.

“Are you living mannequins actually suggesting _I_ had something to do with my brother’s death?”

Death. Jason’s _actual_ death. To Cheryl, it still felt like she was lying to them, that Jason could walk through the door any moment now, or that her phone would buzz and it would be him on the other end.

“We’re just curious. What do the police think happened?”

“I’ll tell you what I told them: that Jason _did_ fall into the water that day. We both did, that’s what a capsize _does,_ morons. I made it to the shore, Jason didn’t. _Maybe_ he made it to the other side and somebody _shot_ him there!”

Ginger and Tina pulled sceptical faces and turned away, right as Cheryl’s pencil snapped. She flexed her hand twice, tucking the evidence into her bag. She supposed she should have expected questions like that, but of course nobody else knew that she was two-months behind on her grieving and was currently in shock. She was having to hide emotions that two months ago she’d been faking.

It was a tough line to walk.

Dr Phylum announced that they would be working in pairs, and it surprised Cheryl to hear Archie Andrews pipe up from the back with a “Can I be with Cheryl?”

Ignoring the (completely irrelevant and irritating) stab of annoyance she felt at not being paired with Veronica, Cheryl scooched her chair over to give him room.

“Hey,” he said quietly, slipping in beside her. He had smudges of blue under his eyes, which made Cheryl wonder if maybe his drama with Betty hadn’t resolved itself yet. “We, uh, haven’t had a chance to talk much since the summer.”

She decided not to comment that they hadn’t really talked much before it.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for everything you and your family must be going through. I wish I knew some way to help.”

Cheryl huffed out a breath in an approximation of a laugh. “That’s sweet, Archiekins. But unless you were at Sweetwater River and know who shot Jason…”

She trailed off, looking at the dead frog staring up at her. Pale, clammy, undeniably _dead_ , just like Jason had been when she’d seen him on the coroner’s table. Her heart started to beat in her throat, her fingers twitching under the table.

Archie must have seen something in her expression, because he interjected, “Well, I’m not good at science, but I can take this one for you if it’s too weird.”

Archie really was sweet, she decided, but shook her head. “Why, you mean because my brother is probably being dissected at this very moment, with a knife just like this one?”

She held it up for effect, and Archie nodded awkwardly.

She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m completely fine.”

And since she didn’t have a pencil to snap, Cheryl plunged the knife into the frog’s abdomen, smiling the whole time.

* * *

 “What’s this about?” demanded Cheryl as she walked into her living room, dumping her school bag on the floor. “I had to move cheer practice to Wednesday, so it better be good.”

Sheriff Keller looked up from where he was seated opposite her parents, gesturing to the couch they sat on.

“Cheryl, please take a seat. We all appreciate you being here.”

She raised an eyebrow, but did as he asked. She crossed her legs. “Well?”

The Sheriff sighed. “As you know, we found Jason’s body in the river Friday night with a bullet wound to his head.”  
  
Next to her, Cheryl felt her mother stiffen.

“We’ll now be treating his death as a homicide, and that means I have to ask… did Jason have any enemies? Anyone you could think of who would have had reason to cause him harm? Was he mixed up in anything he shouldn’t’ve been?”

Penelope scowled. “Our Jason was a good student. As for who could have hurt him… it’s no secret that that bitch Alice Cooper despised our son.”

The Sheriff pursed his lips while Cheryl crossed her arms. “Disliking someone and putting a bullet in their head are two very different things, _Mother_.”

“ _Don’t_ speak to your mother like that,” scolded her Dad. Cheryl squashed down the yell that was rising into her throat, letting her nails dig into her arms to keep her distracted. 

“Penelope, while the police department appreciates any insight you might have, unless you have proof, I can’t act on mere speculation.”

The Sheriff thumbed his notebook between his hands. “And I’m afraid I also have to ask where you all were on the 11th of July.”

A cold panic overtook Cheryl. He  _knew_.

“The eleventh?” asked her mother sharply. “Why not the fourth?”

“The autopsy revealed that Jason died a week later than we originally believed. Where were you all on the eleventh?”

Cheryl blinked rapidly as all eyes turned to her, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to run. Her mother’s breathing rate had increased, and though she couldn’t see her father she imagined him sitting with his hands curled into fists.

“Probably grieving my dead son,” snapped Penelope harshly. “Or my not-quite-dead-at-that-point son, as it would turn out.”

Cheryl privately thought that the Sheriff was doing a very good job of keeping himself composed. Already she wanted to scream, get her parents to provide a decent answer for once in their lives…

“Clifford?” 

Her father spread his hands. “I – I’d have to check my work log. After – the fourth – I threw myself into the syrup business as a distraction.”

Sheriff Keller nodded understandingly. “If you can confirm where you were that would be of great help to us, just in the case of ruling you out.”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he added, “I’d like to have a private word with Cheryl. Just to get her side of the story.”

She froze, but nodded. Her mother gripped her shoulder tightly as she got up. "We'll discuss this _later_."

A numbness seeped into Cheryl at the hidden threat, and she didn't breathe easer until The Sheriff had one of his deputy’s escort them out, presumably to inform them about the dreaded “what happens next” stage of their lives.

“Cheryl, I’d like you to tell me what really happened on July fourth.”

For a brief moment, she started to say what she’d told him yesterday morning at the morgue: that her and Jason had both fallen into the water. She paused, however, and calculated a few things in her head. Jason had been in trouble. Jason had been murdered. She wanted his killer caught. The police needed to know what she knew to do that. 

So instead Cheryl took a deep breath, and spilled the entire story, right down to telling him that Jason wanted to escape their parents, possibly even her. The Sheriff scribbled a few things down in his notebook, but ultimately listened to her account in full.

“Did Jason behave differently at all in the weeks before he hatched this plan to you?”

She cocked her head, thinking. “I… oh! He said he needed money to me once, which was odd because normally our parents will give us anything we want.”

She thought back to the times she’d seen Reggie rock up, unannounced. The glimpse of a plastic bag she’d once caught, stuffed in Jason’s back-pack. 

“I think… I think maybe he was involved in something bad.” Her voice broke on the last word, and the Sheriff reached out, maybe to comfort her (she supposed he did have a child her age - maybe he was feeling parental), but he seemed to think better of it and stayed in his own seat

“What kind of ‘bad’?” he asked.

“Drugs,” Cheryl whispered, staring at her knees.

The Sheriff nodded. “Thank you for your honesty, Cheryl. We’re going to do all we can to catch your brother’s killer.” 

“Good,” she said firmly. “Because I won’t be happy until he’s walking the green mill to sit in Old Sparky and fry.”

* * *

 

Archie had gone to get take-out, but when he got back it was to find Jughead sitting on his porch steps, just like they used to do when they were kids. 

“Jug,” he said, looking anxiously at his door. His dad already suspected the two of them had had a fight, but he really didn’t want Fred to come and find out for himself. “What’s up?” 

“What’s up is I saw you, Archie,” said Jughead as he got up. “In the music room. With Miss Grundy.”

Archie froze, panic seeping into him. “Keep your voice down,” he snapped, “my dad’s inside.”

“I’m trying to help you, dude. I’m trying to be your friend here, even though we’re not anymore.”

Jughead stuffed his hands in his pockets, obviously angry. “How long?”

Archie looked down at his feet. “Since this summer.”

Jug scoffed like it was the answer he was expecting. “So she’s the reason you’ve been acting weird, then?” 

Archie paused. He _needed_ to tell someone about the gunshot else it was going to keep him up all week, even though he knew what Jughead would say. Was it possible that he _wanted_ someone to convince him to go to the police?

“One of them,” he said, watching as a line appeared in Jughead’s brow.

“What’s the other?”

Archie licked his lips uncertainly. “We were at Sweetwater River on July 4th,” he confessed, “We heard a gunshot. _The_ gunshot, probably.”

“Dude,” said Jughead, shaking his head frantically, “You have to tell somebody!”

“I can’t!” 

“You _can’t_?”

“If I tell the police about the gunshot I have to tell them we were at Sweetwater River –”

“A kid is dead, Archie! And you’re worried about some –” he flailed around for an appropriate word, “– cougar!”

Anger flared inside Archie. “Hey, don’t call her that! She cares about me!”

“Stab in the dark, I’m guessing she cares more about herself!” 

“Jughead this is serious – we could go to jail!”

“ _She!”_  corrected Jughead fiercely, as though that was the only thing in that sentence he could grab onto. “ _She_ could go to jail, Archie! Not you! She’s the adult – you’re a minor and _her student_ , _you_ are the victim here!”

“I’m not – I’m not a victim,” said Archie, hating the way his tongue curled around the word. “I wanted it, too!”

Jughead put his head in his hands. “Oh my god, Archie, she’s _messing with you_. Messing with your mind!”

“Look, I _wanted_ to go to Weatherbee. I would’ve, but she told me it was real and I wasn’t just going to cast her life away –”

“’ _Cast her life away’_? What are you, a young adult novel?”

Jughead took a step back, rubbing his forehead. “What did you say? When you said you wanted to go to Weatherbee?”

Archie frowned, confused. “I just… I just asked her if it was real, between us. Because otherwise I didn’t know what I was protecting. But she said _yes_ , Jug –”

“Oh my god, of course she did, Archie,” cried Jughead. “You just told her that you were, essentially, going to get her arrested unless she told you what you wanted to hear!”  
  
Somewhere, deep inside of him, Archie began to feel like he’d made a big mistake. Jughead shook his head and started to walk away, muttering. Archie caught his arm.

“Jughead, wait.”

He watched Jug’s eyes dart down to his hand and then back to his face.

“Please don’t tell anyone. Not until I figure out what to do.”

Jughead sighed, shaking his head. “Who am I gonna tell?’

* * *

Cheryl’s ears quirked up when she heard Betty’s voice from the foyer of Chez Salon.

“I don’t know how to behave normally around him now,” she said sadly, and Cheryl’s heart leapt. Was she _finally_ going to hear about whatever had gone on between her and Archie? “That thing at lunch the other day was just…. urgh! It’s stupid but all I could think about when listening to his song was that it wasn’t about _me_ , wouldn’t _be_ about me, ever, and I know that’s selfish but I just…”

Betty trailed off, and Cheryl carefully plucked the cucumbers from her eyelids so she could see through the frosted door to the nail salon. Two blurred figures moved about in front of it.

“Hey,” said another voice, almost definitely Veronica’s. “It’s okay. And I know it’s hard to realise that he doesn’t like you _like that_ , but he _does_ love you. Anyone can see that.”

There was the sound of scuffling, and then: “You know, my mom says that sometimes, a friend is better than a boyfriend.”

The door opened, revealing…

“Well, well, well, B and V! What a surprise!”

It wasn’t – Cheryl had orchestrated the entire thing so that she would run into them both at Chez Salon. It was their own fault, really – they should have known better than to discuss their plans at cheerleading practice, where anyone could hear them. Veronica looked startled, blinking like a deer in the headlights.

“Cheryl,” she said in surprise. “Um, Betty, do you want to…”

The blonde looked over at her, and Cheryl raised a brow in defiance.

“No, Veronica, it’s fine. C’mon." 

“Great!” Chirped Cheryl, clapping her hands as the two girls took seats. Veronica sat closest too her, which sent a little thrill down her spine even though she was on a mission. 

“So, ladies, what’s the occasion?”

There was an awkward pause, until Betty finally relented. “It’s a pick-me-up.”

“It’s recovery from your _brutal_ cheerleading practice,” teased Veronica, grinning. “Absolutely killed our poor feet.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Please, you weren’t even trying!”

“Uh!” Cried Veronica in mock-offense, “I was too!”

“It’s not a bad thing,” said Cheryl, waving one of her freshly manicured hands. “I know you know it. And when you do try, you’re one of the only girls who actually bring it.”

She leaned forward so she could see around Veronica to Betty. “No offense.”

Betty rolled her eyes, and the girls fell silent as two pedicurists started to work on Betty and Veronica. Cheryl had had her toes done in cherry red to match her nails, and she watched with interest as the other two selected their colours.

Betty chose a pale pink – boring and predictable, in Cheryl’s opinion – and Veronica picked out a bright yellow.

“Oooh, nice,” she complimented without thinking, “That’ll look great with your skin tone.”

Veronica blushed – did she always blush this much, or was it something Cheryl just brought out in her? Probably the former, if Cheryl was being realistic. She was hardly likely to make someone this flustered if she wasn’t deliberately intimidated. “Thanks.” 

Veronica looked down at her lap, though a pleased smile still hung around her lips. Cheryl felt a rush of warmth at being able to make the other girl happy.

One of the receptionists poked her head in, “Excuse me, Ms Lodge? There seems to be a problem with your credit card.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Veronica apologetically, skipping over to the door. Even though the room suddenly seemed duller, with her gone Cheryl finally had the chance to put her plan in motion.

“Betty, can I confess something to you?" 

The other girl looked over in surprise. “Um, sure.”

Cheryl smoothed a hand over the arm rest of her seat, preparing herself for what she was about to say. “I’m… sorry that I’ve been such a witchy witch to you. Becoming friends with Veronica has made me see that I acted unfairly towards you during these past few months.”

She sighed deeply, picking at her towel. To sell the lie she needed to impart some truth, but it still made her deeply uncomfortable to expose herself in such a way. “After Polly and Jason’s epic demise, I was angry at everyone. But I took it out on you because you were… _there_. I mean, I couldn’t very well go and bully your parents for it.”

Betty opened her mouth and looked away.

She gulped. “Especially, since, in a way. It’s kind of like we both lost siblings.”

“How um – how is Polly? Is she doing okay?”

Betty eyed her suspiciously. “She’s fine.”

Cheryl back-pedalled slightly, trying not to come on too strong. “I just mean… we both loved Jason, a lot, and I know that I really needed,” _‘do need,’_ she added mentally, “Someone there for me who understood what I was going through." 

“Oh.” Said Betty.

“Do you think she knows what happened to Jason? That he was murdered?”

“I – I’m not sure.”

“What do you think went down between them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well what do your parents say?”

“About Jason and Polly?”

Cheryl nodded. 

“Not a lot.”

“Same!” said Cheryl, with more emotion than she felt. “I keep thinking that maybe Jason said something to her, or she said something to him… I mean, didn’t they have a big fight this summer or -?”

Betty seemed to snap out of whatever dazed mood she was in, suddenly looking suspiciously at her again.

“Why are you asking me so many questions about Polly?”

 _Because, you moron!_ Cheryl wanted to scream, _I think your crazy, tweaked-out sister shot my brother!_

“I’m just – concerned. Jay-Jay said he was running away from something and I just wanted to make sure Polly wasn’t involved in anything he was.”

Betty frowned and scratched the back of her neck. “Oh. Well I’m sure my parents would tell me if she wasn’t fine." 

Betty sounded equally doubtful of the lie as Cheryl was. She opened her mouth to say something else but was interrupted by Veronica returning, and Cheryl had to delay her investigating until another time.                         

* * *

“Jug!” called out Archie, jogging over to the bleachers. “I’m going to tell Weatherbee about the gunshot tomorrow morning.”

Jughead gave him an approving nod, and Archie felt his intestines contract. He fidgeted with the helmet in his hands. “Also… I’m going to tell him about Grundy. That she was there.”

He saw the concern in Jughead’s eyes but ploughed on regardless. He’d come to the decision last night and he hadn’t been able to shake it. Still, he owed Jughead an apology for ditching him on the fourth of July. He knew Jug had been let down to often in his life – by the system, his father and now, him.

“And, I didn’t mean any of the crap I said to you,” said Archie. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool,” said Jughead, nodding while Archie searched his face for any sign that it might not be. He must have interpreted this as him waiting for something, because he said: “We’re not gonna hug in front of this whole town!”

They both laughed, and Jughead added: “So let’s just do that bro thing where we nod like douches and mutually supress our emotions.”

“Yeah,” said Archie as he reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, slightly longer than strictly necessary. If he wasn’t imagining things, he thought Jughead looked slightly pleased.

“But as friends, right?”

“Friends,” agreed Jug.

The nervous energy that had been bubbling inside Archie ever since he decided to come clean about the Fourth finally bubbled to the surface, spilling out of him all in a rush. “Hey, Jug? Will you, uh… will you come with me, tomorrow morning?”

Just the thought of seeing Sheriff Keller made Archie break out in a cold sweat – if he was going to go through with it, he was going to need his best friend. After a long, calculating look, Jughead nodded.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I'm ditching Grundy ASAP because I hate her and the storyline. Also next chapter is hopefully going to have some good Cheronica content to make up for this one!
> 
> Timeline for this chapter:  
> Monday - Cheryl and Archie partner up in Bio, the Blossom's get interviewed by Sheriff Keller, Jughead confronts Archie  
> Wednesday afternoon - the girls get mani-pedis at Chez Salon  
> Thursday Night - the Pep Rally


	4. girls/girls/boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter, but it's filled with Cheryl & Veronica, so that's okay!
> 
> I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and guess that people weren't into the Archie/Jug dynamic last time? I'll probably phase it out a bit if that's the case and start viewing their relationship through Cheryl and Veronica's eyes (I have lots of headcanons about Veronica/Archie and Cheryl/Jughead being bros). I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though!
> 
> *Chapter title is a Panic! At the Disco song.

It rained on Thursday night. Cheryl stared out the window of her last class, watching as the little droplets fell against the glass. _Excellent_ , she thought, _three weeks of planning and my routine is going to be ruined by the freakin’ weather_. At least it wasn’t cold, she decided. September still had enough residual warmth left over from Summer to mean that she wasn’t going to end up covered in goose-bumps the minute she stepped off the field.

“It’ll be fine,” said Veronica, poking her with the top of her pen and correctly interpreting her thoughts. “I’ll come early and help you set up, if you want.”

Cheryl smiled. “Okay.”

Veronica was right, mostly. The rain turned into a light spitting and the River Vixens were even able to fit in another rehearsal before people started filling the stands. _The Pussycats_ rocked their cover, as she’d known they would, and when the Bulldogs prepared to charge through the banner, Cheryl felt the usual fluttering of anticipation.

She clapped alongside Josie, watching as Archie tore through the banner, a bright, yellow number nine shining on his jersey. She grinned, but her heart stopped as Jason looked up, saw her. Winked. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing becoming shallow, and then when she opened them he was Archie again, running off to play football, and it finally hit her.

Jason was _dead_. She was _never_ going to see her brother again.

Her hands felt panicky, and suddenly everything was too much. The noise was too loud, the lights were too bright, the people in the stands were pressing into her, they were so close. Before anyone could register what had happened, Cheryl had run off the stage and onto the oval, desperate to get away. Her gym shoes slipped on the mud and she clutched her microphone tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

Across the field, she could see the gym’s change rooms. Just a lone little building, but oh, so _gloriously_ far away. She increased her speed, relishing the feeling of leaving it all behind. She wiped her eyes furiously on the back of her sleeve, blinking to try and clear her vision. As she crashed into the building’s door, she took as deep a breath as she could manage. It was blissfully silent, away from prying eyes and prodding questions, where she didn't have to pretend to be feeling things she wasn't.

She was finally, _finally_ alone. 

Alone.

* * *

 

“Cheryl?” called Veronica cautiously, pressing open the door to the change rooms. Her stomach flipped when she saw Cheryl sitting on the bench with her back to her, face buried in her hands.

“Cheryl, what is it? What happened?”

Cheryl continued to cry. Veronica crossed the room, sitting down on the bench as she tried to wrack her brain for what to do in situations like this. She was sure she must have read something, _somewhere,_ for dealing with panic attacks.

“Cheryl?” She asked again, cautiously placing a hand on her shoulder. “Cheryl, do you know where you are?”

There was a hiccupping gulp, and Cheryl’s head bobbed up and down. “Change rooms,” she stuttered out.

“That’s right,” said Veronica soothingly, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s Thursday night, you’re at the pep rally. You and I are sitting in the gym’s locker room. It’s just you and me, Cheryl.”

Her breathing started to even out slightly, which Veronica took to be a good sign. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Jason,” she sobbed, “He’s gone.”

Veronica looked down at her lap, at a loss. She’d never lost anyone, unless she counted her Dad, but that didn’t really count, in this instance. She settled on saying the only thing she could think to. “I know. I know he is.”

“No, you don’t, you don’t understand,” Cheryl sounded angry, but it was hard to tell underneath the tears. “He was supposed to come back.”

Veronica frowned. _He was supposed to come back?_  

Before she could dwell on it, Cheryl brought her back to the present. “I’m alone,” she whispered. “I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Veronica said it with as much conviction as she could manage, trying to inject as much feeling as she could into those three words. She felt Cheryl shudder. “It’s okay.” 

Catching her quite by surprise, Cheryl suddenly whipped round, latching on to her shoulders and hugging her. Veronica wrapped her arms around her waist, running one hand soothingly up and down her back.

“It’s okay,” she whispered again into Cheryl’s hair, trying very hard not to do anything creepy like smell it. Her treacherous mind picked up on the fact that the other girl smelled like apricots anyway, and filed that away for later. “You’re okay.” 

Cheryl continued to cry.

* * *

_Friday Morning_

Archie’s stupid leg wouldn’t stay still, and he knew it was annoying Jug. Somehow this whole plan had seemed a little less insane when he was standing under the bleachers. He tried desperately to keep his leg still, but the minute his mind drifted to the room on the other side of the wall, it would undoubtedly start jiggling up and down again.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, feeling like he was going to puke. _Fucking fuck fuck_. 

“Archie, please follow me. Would you like the Sheriff to wait outside?” 

It really was just Archie’s luck to catch the Principal when he was supposed to be getting an update on Jason’s case from Kevin’s dad. He shook his head. 

“No, that’s okay. You should probably hear this, Sheriff.”

Both men looked at him curiously, their demeanours suddenly changing, becoming more alert. Archie took in a deep gulp of air and tried to keep the room from spinning. If it wasn’t for Jughead at his side, Archie honestly didn’t know if he would have been able to take the six steps in into Weatherbee’s office without collapsing. As it was, sinking into one of the two chairs opposite the desk was a welcome relief. He dully noted that Jughead dragged his chair closer, so that their knees would be touching if one of them decided to make it so. It was a nice gesture – it reminded him of the time they got dragged into their fourth grade teacher’s office for sneaking books out of the library because Jughead couldn’t afford the fee. 

“What would you like to talk to me about, Archie?”

Archie blinked, licked his lips and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. 

“I was at Sweetwater River on July Fourth.” 

He saw the Sheriff lean forward a fraction, as if he could see the truth written across Archie’s face. He continued: “I heard a gunshot. Probably, um. Probably the gun shot.”

“What time was this?”

The Sheriff, this time.

“Six AM, sir.”

The Sheriff motioned to Jughead. “Were you there?”

Archie didn’t give him a chance to reply. “No, he wasn’t.”

“So, you were alone?” 

“No, I was with…” He closed his eyes briefly, then relocated his gaze to the floor. _Breathe in, and out. Breathe in, and out_. Almost of his own accord his hands curled into fists, as Archie tried to concentrate on little details to keep his mind from spiralling. It was a trick Coach had taught him after he'd been knocked down so hard he thought he was going to faint. Blue carpet. The sun outside. Jughead’s knee pressing into his own. 

“I was with Ms Grundy," He said, the words sounding foreign to his ears. "We’ve been having an affair.”

He missed the looks of shock on the two faces opposite him, focusing instead on the way the pressure against his leg increased.

“Archie,” said Principal Weatherbee, voice grave, “That is an extremely serious allegation.”

“It’s not – she didn’t,” Archie could feel himself blushing, now. “It was… consensual.”

As he looked into Sheriff Keller’s eyes, he was suddenly extremely grateful that he was Kevin’s dad. He didn’t look enraged, or sceptical, just paternal. He breathed a little easier. 

“Archie,” said the Sheriff gently, “You’re underage. That makes it statutory rape.”

Maybe it was hearing it said out loud by an adult, or someone of legal authority, but Archie suddenly felt it all unload upon his shoulders, and didn’t seem to be able to make his eyes meet anyone else’s, not even Jughead’s. He heard shuffling on the desk and a few whispered words between the two adults.

“Archie, we’ll be dealing with this as soon as possible. Would you like to go home, or book an appointment with the school counsellor?” 

Archie swallowed – he didn’t want to be treated like some sort of _victim_. He didn’t feel like he _was_ a victim. He shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll stay at school.”

Weatherbee looked at him, obviously concerned. “Okay, if you’re sure. But if you need to talk to anyone about this, there are options. Your parents, friends, and school staff all care about you.”

He nodded.

“Okay,” said Weatherbee. “You two can go.”

“Thanks,” said Archie hesitantly. “I’m sorry for not coming forward sooner. About the gunshot, I mean.”

The Sheriff waved his apologies away. “No need to worry, Archie. I’ll be in touch about where we go from here.”

“You okay?” Muttered Jughead as they left.

 _No_ , yelled his brain.  _No, I'm not!_  

Archie nodded, bumping his shoulder against Jughead's. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

* * *

“Good afternoon, mortals,” said Cheryl as she placed her lunch tray down on the table. “Veronica, scooch up next to Archie, there’s a girl.”

Slightly stunned to see Cheryl at their table, Veronica did as she asked. There was no trace of the previous night in Cheryl’s features, but Veronica couldn’t think of any other reason why she might have decided to join them. Cheryl slid in next to her, her jean-clad thigh brushing against Veronica’s bare one. Her red hair was done up in two long Dutch braids, and she had a black crop-top on, finished with a spider broach. On the opposite side of the table, Betty and Jughead were staring at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“Cheryl,” said Betty, sounding confused, “What are you doing here?”

Cheryl smiled – not the genuine one that Veronica thought she’d seen at her party, but a mischievous, cat-like one. It made Ronnie feel like someone had turned her insides the other way out.

“I’m here to see Archie, of course,” she said, and leaned round Veronica.

“Archiekins, Sheriff Keller told me that you corroborated my story about the gunshot. I’m eternally grateful.”

“ _What_?” Exclaimed Betty, looking between them so fast Veronica worried her neck might snap.

“Corroborated?” Asked Jughead, sounding equally stunned.

Veronica decided to latch on to the piece of the sentence she thought they were all neglecting. “Um, _gunshot_?”

“Why of course,” said Cheryl, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, I see.”

She tutted. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you all to be up to date on gossip – Jason’s autopsy revealed that he died a week later than originally suspected.” 

Veronica felt her eyes go wide. Was this what Cheryl had meant when he said he was supposed to come back?

Cheryl looked round at their shocked faces. “Yes, yes, I played you all like a fiddle for months. That’s old news. What _isn’t_ old news is the fact that on July Fourth, someone very likely _did_ take a pot-shot at my brother. Obviously they missed, but the Sheriff wasn’t exactly sold on my testimony. Said I was lucky not to be charged with ‘obstruction of justice’ and that some people might think I had something to do with Jason’s death.”

Cheryl sniffed as though this was a ridiculous notion and then popped a crouton from her salad into her mouth. “But your story changes all of that, Archie, so thank you.”

Veronica turned to the redhead on her otherside, who looked very unsure of himself. “Um, you’re welcome?”

Cheryl grinned at him. “So,” she said, “Fill me in on all the goss from your tiny end of town.”

They looked around at each other blankly for a minute, trying to think of something. Anything Veronica had of importance to say related to her parents, and she wasn’t exactly prepared to say any of that to Cheryl. As if on cue, however, Veronica’s favourite fashion icon (today dressed in a _gloriously_ vintage sweater vest) arrived.

“Oh, my god,” said Kevin, shuffling Betty and Jughead down so he could sit. “You will not _believe_ what has just happened.”

“Did _That '70s Show_  call to ask for their vest back?” Asked Jughead, causing Veronica to smirk. 

Betty grinned, also, but had the decency not to comment. “What, Kev?”

“I just saw Ms Grundy getting _arrested_ ,” he said, looking round with wide eyes. “ _And_ she’s been fired. Word on the ground is that she was taking her tutoring sessions a little _too_ seriously, if you know what I mean.”

Veronica was packed tightly enough in between Cheryl and Archie that she felt when he tensed, suddenly becoming a coil of nervous energy. 

“Sex,” Kevin added when nobody said anything. “I _obviously_ mean sex.” 

Betty rolled her eyes. “We got it, Kev.”

“Wow,” said Cheryl, clearly unsure of what to say. Betty looked similarly stunned.

Archie’s tension hadn’t dissipated, so Veronica looked over at him, frowning. “Are you okay, Arch?” 

He jumped slightly. “What? Yeah.”

He shook his head and smiled apologetically at her. “Yeah, I was just thinking that, um, this puts me in a bad situation, music wise.”

Veronica nodded, but he still seemed unsettled, causing her to wonder if there was more to his story.

“Oh my god, Archie, that could have been you,” said Betty suddenly, looking pale, “That’s so bizarre to think about!”

Betty crossed her arms. “I’m glad she’s getting what she deserves. If it is true, I mean,” she amended hurriedly.

Archie still seemed distressed, which caused Veronica to move her arm so it was pressing against his. It was a silent, “ _I’m here if you need_ ,” and Archie seemed to appreciate it because he returned the pressure slightly. She smiled at him happily as the group began to move onto other topics of conversation.

* * *

 

Veronica was too busy engaged in this silent communication to notice Cheryl staring at her, but Kevin did, and he noticed the way the redhead’s shoulders drooped and her lips pursed. He looked between her and Veronica, quickly taking note of the lack of distance between them, as well as the fact that though she was looking at Archie, Veronica's body was mostly angled towards the girl on her right.  _Interesting_ , Kevin thought, deciding to keep an eye on the two of them in future, _**very** interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grundy is essentially gone now which I'm really happy about. I'll do a little follow up but otherwise she's being shipped off to jail because this is my universe and laws don't apply.
> 
> I also think I might skip like the entirety of S01E03? I don't think there's anything in there for me to change. You can just assume that that happens in-between this chapter and the next one (oh, and yes, Cheryl absolutely is jealous that Ronnie went on a date with Chuck, and that is absolutely why she's extra mean in the episode. It's the only reasonable explanation).
> 
> Adios!


	5. strangelove (that's how my love goes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: ok I’m done w/ archie now, time for c&v interactions!!  
> also me: ok but….. how about…… we do a big scene around archie and his dad…. just because...  
> me:   
> me:  
> me: ok
> 
> So, I decided to do ep 3 after all… I glossed over Veronica’s story because I figured we already know it, and I wanted to tell it more from Cheryl’s side and her reconciling her image of Jason with the information that comes to light this episode. I still think ep 3 was/should have been the beginning of her reconciliation arc. My thoughts from rewatching the episode: Why are so many children allowed at school after dark???? And why is the timeline so screwed????? Also, let Veronica kiss girls!!!!

_Friday Night_

Archie let himself into his house, placing his bag in its usual spot by the door. The events of the day were wearing on him, and football had been particularly grueling – he’d stayed late on purpose, tried to write some of his jumbled thoughts down, but the words hadn’t come. Ms Grundy had been _arrested_ because of _him_. He’d _ruined_ somebody’s life. Possibly  _forever_.

“Hey,” he said as he caught his Dad’s eye, inwardly groaning. He just wanted to go to bed and _sleep_ , and escape this hellish day. Maybe he should have just asked Jug if he could crash on the Jones’ sofa.

“I texted,” said Fred tensely, “Where were you?”

Archie bent down to greet Vegas, using it as an excuse to avoid his Dad’s eyes. The dog lapped at his hands, burrowing itself into Archie's chest. “Football practice. And then I was writing.”

Out of the corner of his eye, his saw his Dad stand. Place his hands in his pockets. In a faux-casual voice, he asked: “So, what? That’s it? We’re not gonna talk about the phone call I got from the Sheriff, today?”

Archie gulped, wishing he could stamp on the stupid butterflies in his stomach. He tried to speak, but his mouth stayed clamped shut as if glued. He ducked his head in shame.

“You should have come to me, Archie.” Guilt gnawed at Archie’s stomach in response to Fred’s hurt tone. “We could have gone to the Sheriff _together_. You shouldn’t have had to go alone.”

“I didn’t,” said Archie, standing. Shame and embarrassment still prickled at the back of his neck. “Jug came.”

Fred raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s funny, that,” he accused, “Because I thought you and he were on a road-trip July Fourth. He been covering for you this whole time?”

“What? No!” Archie shook his head. “No, Dad, Jug didn't know until a few days ago, I swear. And it’s not – I don’t know why you’re getting so bent out of shape – it wasn’t…”

“I’m supposed to _protect_ you, Archie,” said his Dad angrily, cutting him off, “How do you think I felt, realizing that you’d been dealing with this alone for _months_? Archie…”

He stared at him helplessly, but Archie couldn’t look at him. His face started to screw up of it’s own accord, crumpling in on itself.

“I know, Dad,” he choked out, staring at his shoes to keep himself together. “I’m sorry, I should have…”

His words got lost in the wool of his Dad’s jumper, who’d pulled him into a hug. Deciding to abandon his pretext of being fine, he gave into it, feeling like a small child who’d scraped their knee. His Dad patted him on the back. “You can trust me, son. I will _always_ protect you. And Jug.”

Archie sniffed, embarrassed, and drew back. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” said Fred sternly. “This is _not_ your fault. Okay? This is not your fault.”

Archie tried very hard to believe it.

* * *

_Monday Morning_

Cheryl slammed into the locker next to Veronica’s, smiling her Cheshire-cat smile. Ronnie’s stomach flip-flopped, but she passed it off as surprise at the redhead’s sudden entrance.

“Hello, Lodge.”

Oh, that could _not_ be good. Her tone was much colder than Veronica had gotten used to over the last few weeks – since the pep rally they had been rather friendly, but Cheryl was obviously mad about something. Veronica frowned slightly, wondering what could be so bad that it made Cheryl appear at her locker so early in the day.

“Hi?

The other girl folded her arms, arching one eyebrow at her. “How was your date with _Chuck_?”

Veronica blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your _date_ ,” repeated Cheryl, annunciating each word clearly. “On Friday. With _Chuck_.”

“…Fine, thanks?”

Cheryl heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. It was only then that Veronica began to notice the sideways looks people were shooting at her, before turning away and giggling. A nervous tension grabbed hold of her.

“Cheryl,” she said cautiously, “What’s going on?”

Cheryl’s mouth ticked up, but there was something wrong, almost cruel, about it. She fiddled briefly with her phone.

“The thing is, Veronica, is that the River Vixens have a reputation to uphold. And when one River Vixen falls, so. Do. The others.”

(Cheryl had a habit of saying her sentences with full stops in the middle whenever she was particularly annoyed. Veronica found it simultaneously irritating and endearing.)

Cheryl held out her phone so Veronica could see the picture on the screen. Her eyes darted across her face, Chuck’s, the bizarre stain-effect over her face and down to the caption. What the _hell_ was a “sticky maple”?

She voiced this question to Cheryl, who gave her a simpering smile. “It’s a Riverdale thing. Pretty much just means you’re a slut.”

Veronica inhaled sharply. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d been called names, or harassed over the internet, but there was a huge difference between hearing it from a nameless, faceless troll and from the girl she fancied. “I didn’t…”

“Save it,” said Cheryl, a cold-triumph gleaming in her eyes. “You’re suspended from the team until further notice.”

“ _What_?”

But Cheryl only shrugged and turned away, leaving Veronica burning pink and with a prickling at the corner of her eyes. She turned hurriedly into her locker so she could hide her face from passers-by and pulled up her phone, typing out a message to Betty.

**_Meet me outside the boys locker room in ten minutes? Have to kick some ass._ **

_Be there in five_ , came the reply, and Veronica thanked god for Betty Cooper.

* * *

_Wednesday_

A hacking cough escaped Cheryl’s lungs as she closed herself off in a cubicle, collapsing against the door as all her energy drained out of her. Several tears ran down her cheeks, a sickening guilt already consuming her from the inside out. Veronica’s threat – _call any one of these beautiful girls ‘slut’ one. More. Time. –_ lingered in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to keep it at bay. Her appreciation for Veronica’s fierceness had quickly given away into realizing that Veronica really, truly, _did_ hate her in that moment. Cheryl had willfully forced her away with her attitude.

God, she was such a **_bitch_**.

She didn’t even know why she was being so mean. All she knew was that the thought of Veronica with Chuck, kissing Chuck, _laughing_ with Chuck had filled her with such a rage that she suddenly had just wanted to hurt her. So _what_ if Veronica preferred Chuck’s company over hers? So _what_ if Veronica was going to find someone she cared about more than Cheryl, just like Jason had done with Polly? So _what?_ She could survive that. It wasn’t like she _liked_ Veronica, at least not very much. _Sure_ , she’d sat with her and her loser crew a couple of times over the last few weeks, but that was just because she thought Veronica was pretty. And yeah, Veronica helped her out at the pep rally, but it wasn’t like she’d had a panic attack since then. Cheryl didn’t need her. She had Ginger, and Tina, and… the Vixens. Veronica Lodge wasn’t _special_. But if that was the case, then why did Cheryl still feel sick to the stomach about the whole thing?

She wiped her tears away on the back of her hand. Chuck wasn’t even good-looking. Like, he was alright, but nothing exciting. Cheryl was way hotter than he was. She was _bold_. Oh, Christ, this wasn’t a trap she wanted to get caught in. She tapped the home button on her phone to check the time, but accidentally held it down for too long: her phone opened, revealing that stupid picture of Veronica and Chuck that had started the whole thing. It made her sick.

Lip curling in disgust, she made to close the app, but got distracted by some of the comments. More guilt filled her as she read through the thread of mean things people were saying about Veronica, and she felt even worse about kicking her off the squad on Monday. She thought again of the pep rally, and Veronica’s comforting hand on her back. She’d helped her in her time of need, but when the situations had reversed, Cheryl had done nothing but cut her down.

She shook herself, wiping her cheeks once more and exhaling a shaky breath. She needed, desperately, to fix this. What would Jason do? For one, she thought bitterly, he wouldn’t have said anything in the first place. He always had been better at controlling his emotions: while Cheryl hid hers behind a face of constant irritation, Jason had been able to smooth-talk people even on his worst days. It was likely why her parents had wanted him to take over the business so badly, but he couldn’t very well do that _now_.

If she was going to fix it, then she obviously needed to do it herself.

* * *

It took until Friday afternoon for Cheryl to finally catch Chuck alone, where she wouldn’t be overheard or threatened by his squad of goons. It was pure luck, really: she’d been heading home after burning that stupid, godforsaken book with Betty when she’d driven past it’s most notorious player, and rage had flared up inside her. Though Betty’s exposé had gotten him off the football team and lost him his scholarship, there was still one loose end that needed to be tied up, and Cheryl intended to be the one to do so.

Unfortunately, Chuck was refusing to cooperate, which was very inconsiderate given that she’d offered to give him a ride home (under false pretences, of course, but he was nevertheless using up her gas).

“Would you fucking cool it, Cheryl?” He snapped, and she decided she needed to be a tad more forceful. She screeched to a stop, getting out of her car and walking briskly to the other side. She wrenched open the door, gleefully observing the look of shock on Chuck’s smug face. 

With the kind of cold fury she usually reserved for her brother’s uncaught killer, Cheryl grabbed his arm, letting her nails dig into the muscle and yanking him out of the car. He stumbled and grimaced, and she noted the pleased satisfaction that swept through her at the sight. 

“I don’t think you _heard me_ ,” she threatened again, voice low and calm, just like Daddy had taught her. “ _Take. It. **Down**_. Or do you _want_ your Ivy League colleges to find out just what kind of _scum_ they might be housing?”

A flicker of fear appeared in Chuck’s eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll take the fucking picture down.”

She clenched his bicep harder.

“I’ll do it now,” he amended. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m doing it.”

She smiled, unleashing his shoulder and thinking of Veronica. “Good boy.”

She waited until he showed her he’d deleted it, double checked on her own phone to be sure, and then slammed the passenger door shut. “Have fun walking home, dickhead.”

“Hey!”

Cheryl rounded on him at the wounded tone in his voice. _Honestly_ \- people like Chuck thought they were entitled to everything and everyone, with no concern for others. “Stop treating women like beanbags, and maybe people won’t be inclined to ditch you on the side of the road," she spat, and settled back into her car to drive off, satisfaction coursing through her veins.

* * *

Veronica stared unhappily at her reflection, self-consciously tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear. _New Girl?_ Was that really all she was worth? Against her better judgement, she reached for her phone, quickly pulling up Chuck’s Instagram. 

The photo she expected to see, however, seemed to have vanished. Had Weatherbee made him take it down? She blinked down at her phone. All of it was gone, like it had never happened. Now the whole event was restricted to her memories, and while she didn’t _want_ those comments to remain out in the world, it felt a little like it was Chuck’s indiscretion being swept under the rug. 

“Hey, B?” She called from her bathroom, quickly tugging on her pyjamas, “Did you see that Chuck’s post is gone?”

“What?” 

“Chuck’s post. It’s gone,” she called again, dumping her clothes in the hamper and exiting the bathroom. Betty looked up at her in surprise from Veronica’s bed. 

“Really?”

Veronica nodded. “Did Weatherbee make him delete it?” 

Betty shrugged. “I don’t know. He probably would have, right?”

“I guess…” Veronica trailed off, shuffling on her feet. “I don’t know, Betty, I feel… _tainted_. And even though we got our revenge on him, I just worry that it won’t be enough. That I’ll forever be known as the girl who gave Chuck a… _sticky maple_.”

The words were spat out in disgust, and Betty quickly reached for her. Veronica obliged, moving to sit down on the bed and letting Betty pull her into a hug.

“You will _not_ be known as that,” she promised, “You’ll simply be Veronica Lodge: Badass.” 

Ronnie chuckled wetly, unsure why she was so upset. “It’s been a trying couple of days, that’s for sure.”

Betty rubbed her shoulder, both of them jumping when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” offered her friend, but Veronica shook her head.

“It’s okay,” she said, drying her eyes and coughing. “You’re the guest, after all.”

Regardless, Betty followed her to the door as she tugged on her dressing gown. Veronica peered through the peep hole quickly (safety first!), slightly stunned to be met with a view of Cheryl Blossom’s shiny red curls.

“Cheryl,” she greeted as she let her in, ignoring the way Betty tensed up. “What are you doing here?”

Cheryl fidgeted with her car keys, tossing them between her hands. “I – I wanted to apologise to you. For my behaviour on Monday.”

Veronica raised both eyebrows.

“I slut-shamed you. I should never have acted in such a way and I regret it. Deeply.”

If there was one thing Veronica could admit, it was that Cheryl Blossom did not mince her words. 

“It was wrong of me,” continued Cheryl, looking her dead in the eye, “I was having a bad day and I unfairly took it out on you for something that wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for everything I said, and you are of course re-instated on the team.”

Cheryl looked down at her shoes. “It seems my brother was not as righteous as he led me to believe. I should have trusted your judgement.”

Veronica blinked, startled by the honesty in her voice. Though Cheryl’s words had been hurtful at the time, she realised that this was exactly what she had just been asking Betty for: confirmation that people now saw Chuck as the person to be shamed, not her. She decided to accept Cheryl’s apology with grace.

“Thank you, Cheryl.”

The redhead nodded. “You’re welcome. It was all very… badly done.”

Veronica felt her lips quirk up of their own volition, a reference already forming in her mind. She folded her arms.

“I rather think you’re Emma in this situation, thank you very much.”

There was a brief moment where Cheryl’s eyebrows contracted slightly, but then her expression eased into a teasing one. “I love John!”

“I hate John,” finished Veronica automatically, grinning. She saw Betty look between them in utter confusion. “It’s Jane Austen,” she offered as explanation.

“Oh, I knew that,” said the blonde, “It’s just that you’re both such _nerds_.”

Veronica laughed, but Cheryl drew herself up to her full height. “I suppose that’s my cue to go, then.”

Suddenly down at the prospect of Cheryl leaving when they’d only just patched things up, Veronica protested, “No, you don’t have to. Betty’s staying over, you could too?”

Cheryl shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I should be off anyway.”

“Let me see you out,” offered Veronica, only realising how stupid that sounded after she said it – they were standing barely a few feet from the door, after all.

Cheryl’s eyebrow hitched up in amusement, one hand already on the doorknob. She stepped out, Veronica following so that they stood in the doorway.

“Bye,” called Betty, and Cheryl waved in response. 

“I’ll see you at school, then,” said Veronica haltingly. Was she supposed to hug her? Wave? How did you say ‘goodbye’ to a frenemy you also frequently wanted to make out with?

Cheryl seemed to be having the same dilemma, because she was staring uncertainly at Veronica. 

“Yeah,” she said finally (was Veronica imagining things, or was she looking at her lips?!), “See you, Ronnie.”

 _That damn nickname_ , cursed Veronica internally. For the second time in a week, Cheryl Blossom turned her cheeks pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I just have to comment on the latest episode…. what the fUCK ??? They keep doin’ Cheryl dirty and I am so bloody tired of it. They really are setting it up (I think) for Josie to be Cheryl’s love interest and while I desperately want that to happen…. not like this!!!!! Can we pLEASE STOP giving all the shitty, toxic, bad plot lines to LGBT relationships ?????!!!???! I’m so mad??!!!??!
> 
> Also the set-up was just. Blurgh. Another let down........ :) But it's fine :)


	6. a crazy, classic, life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaddup!!! even tho cheronica has taken the backseat for a lot of ppl lately, i would really like to finish this so i will try to keep updating it until it's at leaST at the end of s1 !! as much as i love toni topaz, i do love writing bitchy-cheryl, which is why i'm back here....... <3 
> 
> hope u guys like this chapter!!! we r finally at the drive in and im very happy about it

Jughead had somehow been roped into spending his evening with two people he barely knew, and he had quickly decided that it was a mistake. If he had to guess, his reason for being there probably had something to do with Betty, but that didn’t explain why he was having to fight Kevin and Random New Girl over the value of a place that had pretty much been his second home since birth.

“You can’t blame them for wanting to shut it down,” said Veronica, waving one of her hands around empathetically and nearly smacking Kevin in the face, “The people in this town seem way too lazy to drag their butts to a drive-in when they could just stay in bed watching Netflix.”

Irritation flared up inside Jughead. “That doesn’t mean they should just cast it aside! The Twilight is, is a… _staple_ of what Riverdale used to be, it shouldn’t be closed just because it doesn’t make enough revenue.”

He folded his arms on the table. The Twilight was home to some of his best memories – piling into the boot of his Dad’s car with Jellybean because they couldn’t afford four tickets, the time he and Archie sneaked in because they’d skipped school but didn’t have anywhere else to go because Riverdale was boring as shit… he’d had his first (and only) kiss to the backdrop of an old Cary Grant movie. When – _if_ – it was demolished, all those memories were going to turn to ghosts. All because of some - 

“Freaking _a_ _nonymous buyer_ ,” he muttered to himself in disgust. What the fuck did that even _mean_?

Even though he hadn’t meant for her to, Veronica must have heard him.

“Um, _anonymous buyer_?” she repeated incredulously, “What the _hell_ kind of town is this?”

Dejectedly, he huffed out a sigh. “I know, I know.”

He glanced over at Betty, who’d been suspiciously quiet for most of their conversation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Veronica do the same, a tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“Betts?”

Her eyes snapped over to him, a smile quickly overcoming her features.

“Sorry,” she said, blinking herself out of her reverie, “I was just, um, thinking that…”

He frowned as she seemed to fumble with herself for a minute, before she shook herself. “I was thinking that tonight this really is going to be the Twilight’s last hurrah, the film should be something classic, right? Like… _Rebel Without a Cause_.” 

She grinned at him, and Jughead felt himself smile back. The three months while she was on her internship had been some of the longest of his life (made worse when Archie disappeared from them too, but he liked to not think about that), and he had missed her soft sense of humour. He nudged her elbow with his. 

“Sounds good, Betts.”

* * *

 “ _So_ ,” said Veronica around the straw of her iced coffee, “Are you going to take Moose to Jughead’s drive-in extravaganza?”

Kevin rolled his eyes, stretching his legs out on one of the school couches. “ _No_ ,” he said, exasperated, “Moose is going with Midge. His _girlfriend_.”

They were sitting in one of Riverdale High’s common room areas during the free period they shared, having just got back after sneaking out for take-out. Though they were technically supposed to stay on school grounds for their middle period frees, the school canteen just didn’t measure up to Pop’s. Veronica shrugged as innocently as she could, trying to hide how much she wanted to see Kevin in a happy relationship. “I just _wondered_. He obviously likes you.”

He scoffed. “Ronnie, Moose isn’t gay.”

“I’m not saying he’s _gay_ ,” implored Veronica, slurping loudly on her drink, “But he’s _at least_ bi.”

“Either way,” said Kevin, pointing his spoon at her before delving back into his yogurt, “He’s dating Midge, and that means he’s off-limits.” 

A smirk started to tug on the corner of his mouth, and he lowered his voice. “ _Speaking_ of crushes…”

Veronica whirled round to see Cheryl click-clacking her way into the room, and promptly choked on her drink. The redhead rolled her eyes.

“I know I’m impossible to keep your eyes off, but please try not to die before our next River Vixens event,” she said coolly, pulling herself to a stop. Ronnie started to stand, but Cheryl waved her hand at her. “Please, don’t get up. I only came by to tell you that your mother really ought to stop cavorting with criminals if she ever wants to get herself a respectable job.”

Veronica blinked up at her, the words taking a moment to register. “Um, excuse me?”

Cheryl folded her arms, and though her voice was nonchalant, the corners of her mouth twitched downwards. “I saw your mom hiding out in the alley behind Pop’s last night, talking to a South Side Serpent. They were having an extremely heated, _intimate_ discussion.”

Cheryl drew her phone out of her purse while Veronica stood up to get a better look.

“See for yourself.”

Confused, Veronica frowned at the picture Cheryl was showing her. It was grainy, but there was no mistaking the bright yellow uniform or her mom’s bouncy ponytail.

“I don’t understand,” she said, tilting the phone to get a closer look. What was her mom doing with a… _Southside Serpent_? Cheryl only shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, I just thought you ought to know. Although –” Cheryl tugged her phone back, “– if anyone asks, I only told you so I could make a dig about it, and not because I actually care about you, which of course I don’t.” 

Like always when she talked to Cheryl, Veronica felt as if she was two steps behind in a very elaborate tango. “Okay?”

Cheryl gave her a large grin and walked back out the way she came. Feeling lost, Veronica looked over at Kevin, who had watched the conversation with great amusement.

“What the hell was she talking about?”

Kevin shrugged. “The South Side Serpents are a biker gang, but they mainly stick to their side of Riverdale, although they sometimes come over to deal drugs to kids.”

Veronica’s eyes widened in panic – _drug dealers?_ _What the hell was her mom involved in?_

“But, hey,” reassured Kevin hastily, “No biggie, right? Your mom was probably just catching up with some old friend of hers.”

Veronica sat back down and cautiously picked up her drink. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She shook her head, still baffled by the number of weird things that seemed to happen in Riverdale. “This town is so fucked up.” 

Kevin laughed. “Pretty much.”

Veronica laughed with him, sipping on her coffee. Her mom was probably fine, just like he said – she was sure she would have told her if it was anything serious.

“Why don’t you ask Cheryl to the drive in?”

The question made Veronica start, nearly choking on her drink for the second time. “I – uh – what?” 

The teasing look in Kevin’s eyes gave way to something softer. “Ronnie, you obviously like her.”

“I don’t… I don’t _like_ her,” she said slowly, although it didn’t encompass nearly enough of what her feelings were. Kevin gave her an encouraging look, and she found herself almost desperate to disclose her feelings to him.

“She’s like… I don’t know. Sometimes she’s really nice to me, like then,” said Veronica hesitantly, thinking also of the random compliments Cheryl kept giving her, “And there’s obviously more going on with her than the persona she projects.” She had a flashback to the feeling of Cheryl wrapped in her arms, and felt her cheeks heat up. “But then sometimes she’s just so… sometimes she just looks at me like I’m dirt.”

She looked down sadly at her hands, missing Kevin’s incredulous look.

(In his highly scientific opinion, Veronica couldn’t be more wrong. Cheryl looked at her as if she wanted to climb Veronica like a tree.)

“I dunno, Kevin,” she confessed, “She’s just… _magnetic_.”

It was an apt description, in Ronnie’s opinion. Everything about Cheryl was so calculated, so exuberant and flamboyant, that Veronica couldn’t help but gravitate towards her any time she was in the room.

“ _Ask her to the drive-in_ ,” he said emphatically, but Veronica rolled her eyes. If she knew for sure Cheryl liked girls? Maybe. Then again, Cheryl’s brother had just _died_ , and she didn’t know if she was ready to be such an immediate source of support to someone, or if Cheryl would even be in the right headspace for a relationship.

“You afraid I’m gonna cramp your style, Keller?” She teased instead of answering, “Not enough room for the both of us in that truck?”

He rolled his eyes, obviously sensing that she wasn’t going to talk anymore about Cheryl. “Just wear something hot,” he said, “Obviously, you’ll look good in anything, but most of the town will be there, and Cheryl never misses the chance to make a public appearance.”

* * *

Kevin was, honestly, completely happy to be going to the drive-in with Veronica. She was funny, and he liked teasing her about Cheryl, but mostly it was just nice to have someone he could talk openly about being gay with. Moose was still in the closet, Jughead didn’t seem to want to talk about his painfully obvious crush on Archie (not that Kevin was particularly close with Jughead), Cheryl was a bitch despite being the biggest lesbian he’d ever seen and Betty, though she was perfectly nice about it, just didn’t really _get_ it.

“Isn’t there a nice gay kid at your school?”

Kevin huffed out a laugh, wondering how many times a day he asked himself that very question. “Yeah, Dad. Me.”

His Dad pulled a sympathetic face and handed him the keys to the truck. “Well, no cruising guys tonight, okay?”

“Oh my god,” muttered Kevin, feeling his ears go red. When he came out, he worried his Dad would never want to talk about his sexuality with him, but sometimes – like now – it felt like he had the opposite problem.

“No, I’m serious,” said his Dad, getting up from his desk. “We both know what goes on in those woods. Stick with the truck and your friends.”

Kevin nodded and pocketed the keys. “What’ll you be doing tonight?”

There was a long sigh as his Dad stared at his murder board. “More work, probably. We’ve got a couple o’ leads to check into.”

“You’re getting close, then?”

Kevin knew he was a terrible gossip, and his Dad did too, which was why the only reply he got was a long look.

“Yeah, alright,” he conceded, disappointed. “Don’t tell me.”

“Just be careful,” said his Dad, clapping him on the shoulder. “And send the deputy in on your way out, can you?” 

Kevin did so, and gnawed on his bottom lip for only a moment before he shuffled back to the door of the Sheriff’s office to listen.

“… was frozen, so check out any places that might have offered appropriate storage, see if any of it’s missing.” That was his Dad’s voice. “Finding the crime scene is top priority at the moment, but send a squad out to continue the search of the woods.”

There was a pause where he assumed the deputy was scribbling down the instructions. 

“What are we looking for?”

“Kid wanted to get out of town, right? Must’ve had a getaway vehicle.”

The front door banged open and Kevin jumped, quickly ducking out the back entrance. Sheriff’s son or not, he didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping on official police business. He wondered briefly as to whether he should share what he had overheard with Betty, but quickly decided not to. The murderer could still be anybody, and he didn’t want to accidentally clue them in and have them destroy evidence before the police could get to it.

* * *

 

“So... are you coming to the drive-in tonight?”

He internally winced at how lame the words sounded, but Jughead forced himself to remain calm. Archie didn’t have to come with him, he reminded himself. They hadn’t even spoken about it, really (before the summer it would have been a given, but Jughead tried not think about before the summer anymore). Archie looked up at his him, fry halfway to his mouth. “Is that not why we’re eating here?”

Jughead shrugged, his jacket moving bulkily around his shoulders. He’d have to get a new one soon, especially if he was gonna get caught sleeping on the streets – this one wasn’t nearly warm enough for night time, not once Winter came. “I thought you might be seeing the Sheriff instead.”

Archie shook his head. “Nah. I talked them out of pressing charges this morning, but Ge – Ms Grundy is moving back to Greendale ‘cause of all the gossip.”

He paused, but before Jughead could think of anything suitable to say he’d switched the subject back to the drive-in. “My Dad has the truck though so I was hoping I could sit in with you.”

Archie looked up at him from underneath his lashes, like he was hesitant about what Jughead would say. Jughead was pretty sure he actually _felt_ his heart stop, and immediately decided he was never sitting opposite Archie again. He’d always thought being asexual would save him from all of the dumb pining and heartache he saw in shitty CW shows, but apparently his stupid heart didn’t want to play by the same rules, and it was pretty fucking annoying. 

He nodded anyway, even though that posed the question of how exactly he was going to make the little room look like it wasn’t where he’d been sleeping for the past two months. He figured he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, though. “How come your Dad’s using the truck?”

Archie’s face scrunched up in repulsion. “He’s going on a date with Veronica’s _mom_.”

And even though he didn’t really want to, even though sitting together at Pop’s didn’t automatically make them friends again, Jughead laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much love kiddies !!!! i also have another angsty unrequited cheronica one shot coming up soon so stay tuned for that !!!!
> 
> (the title of this chapter is from janelle monae's dirty computer because it is a bisexual anTHEM)

**Author's Note:**

> You can also visit me on Tumblr at dancinghopper!


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